


Off-Label Use

by Andraste



Category: Control (Video Game)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Dubious Consent, M/M, Only Without the Pollen, Sex Pollen, Yuletide Treat, improper use of psychic powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:00:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28216590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andraste/pseuds/Andraste
Summary: AI75-PE is tricky, even by Altered Item standards.
Relationships: Casper Darling/Zachariah Trench
Comments: 14
Kudos: 23
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Off-Label Use

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cadmean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadmean/gifts).



> Hello recipient - I saw the excellent _Control_ prompts in your letter and sat down to write a perfectly sensible treat about Darling and Trench's adventures with weird psychic nonsense. And then by some process I do not claim to understand this got written instead? Anyway, I hope you like random gifts of video game smut from complete strangers. (Isn't Yuletide wonderful?)

"You wanted to see me?"

Barbara has gone home, along with almost everyone else, so Darling let himself into Trench's office. It's not unusual for either of them to be here after hours, but he doesn't normally get calls telling him to come over this late. Meetings are traditionally a daytime activity.

"There's an Item here I'd like you to take a look at."

Now that _is_ unusual - it's clearly against Bureau policy, in fact, for Trench to have it in his office before anyone has even seen it. Then again, so is smoking, and his cigarette is in his mouth as he contemplates the thing on the desk. It's in an ominous black cardboard box, like a sinister Christmas present.

"I assume there's a reason you want me to examine it here?"

"I thought this might be more private."

There's always a chill down Darling's spine when he gets his hands on a new Item, but this one feels ... different, somehow. The hair on the back of his neck is standing up as he approaches it.

"Oh," he says, opening the box. Yes, this is not something Trench wants to carry around the Oldest House. HR probably doesn't have a form that covers it.

"According to the report," Trench says, "it was found in an airport lost luggage room. Tweed New Haven Airport, specifically. No telling how long it had been there or where it came from. It's a Hitachi Magic Wand." He says the last part as if he's not sure he has the name right.

"It would almost have to be, wouldn't it? There can't be many sex toys that have an instantly recognisable silhouette that rivals a Heinz Ketchup bottle or a rubber duck." Even fewer that look more like power tools than marital aids. It's aura is almost threatening.

"I wouldn't know." Trench puts his cigarette back in his mouth and drums his fingers on the desk, then abruptly catches himself and stops.

"I think it's an old one, from the seventies. Maybe someone realised they'd have to take it through a security screening and dumped it?"

"Perhaps. We'll never know. No altered world events anywhere near the airport that we've ever made a record of. According to reports it had been there for years when the - activity started, last week."

"What kind of activity?" Even as he asks, Darling knows the answer. He can feel it in the air - in this case, at least, form does follow function. Fascinating, if a bit alarming.

"They found two naked airport employees passed out in the lost and found room together, but it seemed to be inert by the time the Bureau was called in. Certainly when it was brought here."

Darling stares at it. It doesn't feel inert now. What's changed?

"Did these employees have anything to say on the subject?"

"Nothing very useful or coherent."

PE Items often have that effect on people, and adding the extra embarrassment factor, that's not very surprising. He'll find the report later and file it with the rest of the useless data.

"Maybe it only responds to people in pairs?" He wonders why it doesn't like threesomes. He also wonders if Trench had already figured this out and that's why he's in here.

Difficult to know. Trench has changed since he became Director. Of course he has, that's the job. But Darling can't help but feel like he's drifting further and further into the distance, like a balloon that's had its strings cut, ever since they got back from Slide 36.

Probably Darling should leave the office right now and tell Trench they should find some other way to examine the Item. But it feels like his feet are glued to the floor, and he's having trouble taking his eyes off it. With difficulty he looks up at Trench instead. He's put the cigarette down and is looking more inscrutable than usual. It occurs to Darling that he's probably been sitting here staring at this box all afternoon. Maybe it wasn't as inert as all that, to somebody with paranatural abilities.

Darling has been around a lot of Altered Items, and more than a few Objects of Power. He has no sensitivity himself - he's as psychically inert as a brick. (Hell, he's come across a few bricks that had more juice than he does. Bricks can be pretty iconic.) But even someone like him can feel the vibes coming off them a lot of the time, and it's never been these kind of vibes before.

"Why am I here?" Darling has overheard a few jokes about him being Trench's favourite that went in this particular direction, but if you'd asked him fifteen minutes ago he'd have said there was nothing to them. He's not sure how he feels about the idea that they might be accurate.

"Do you want to leave?"

He should. It's obvious that Trench isn't thinking clearly. But he really, really doesn't want to go anywhere. "You know me," he says, "I always want to see what they can do."

Trench takes the ashtray off the desk, with the ever-burning cigarette resting inside, and puts it over on the bookshelf. Sensible. The Items don't always get along with each other, and there's no sense creating a fire hazard.

"How do you think it got like this?" Darling asks, for lack of something else to say.

"That's really more your department," Trench says, which is fair. He's putting his papers into the desk draws as if he needs to clear off the desk so they can do experiments with paranatural vibrators in here all the time. 

It was probably changed long before it got to the airport. Some forgotten altered world event that must have been a lot sexier than most of them are. Or maybe more horrifying. Both. It could have all kinds of properties. The Magic Wands weren't marketed as sex toys, to begin with anyway, so it might have a lot of different associations beyond the obvious one. He's aching to find out.

"Well, it doesn't pay to theorise without any facts," Darling says. "What happens if you touch it?"

Trench lifts the wand out of the box. Its cord is frayed. God knows what would happen if you actually plugged it in. Which is probably unnecessary anyway, because as soon as Trench's hand is on the handle it's as if the room catches fire, or Darling does. Whatever was going on before was nothing. He's abruptly hard as a rock.

"OK," he manages to say, "definitely doing ... something."

He carefully does not look down to see if Trench is in the same condition. Against whatever better judgement he's ever had, he reaches out and puts a hand on the business end of the wand.

He feels a buzz, not like a vibrator but more like - bees? What it would feel like to hold his hand against a beehive? Not something he's ever done, but he can imagine - and he's still trying to figure out what it really reminds him of when Trench leans across the desk and smashes their faces together.

Trench tastes like an ashtray, and not just any old ashtray, but like OOP11-KE, which should probably worry him more than it does. The frames of their glasses clash, and it's all Darling can do to let go of the Item so he can reach up and lift his off of his face. They end up somewhere on the desk, which would be fine if he wasn't suddenly climbing across it, with Trench's tongue in his mouth. He ends up sitting on the edge, legs spread so Trench can stand as close as possible and, oh, Trench is _definitely_ in the same state he's in. If they keep going like this the investigation isn't going to last long.

It's only because Darling eventually has to pull away to breathe, he manages to ask again. "Why am _I_ here?" Not Marshall, or Barbara, or anyone else. Of everyone in the building, _he's_ the one that Trench calls when the psychic sex toys arrive? Not that he's complaining.

"I trust you," Trench says, putting his hands either side of Darling's face. He's still got his glasses on, somehow.

It would be nice to just take that at face value and not worry about it, but there's a part of his brain that can't help wondering if that's really true any more. Trench pulls himself away, breathing heavily, and Darling hears himself make a disappointed whine. The haven't even got any clothes off yet, and even though he's far too warm in a lab coat and sweater he doesn't seem to remember how buttons work. With visible effort, Trench sits down in his desk chair. Darling looks at the erection tenting Trench's suit pants and he doesn't even need to be asked to get onto his knees. This somehow still feels the greatest idea he's ever had. He doesn't dare touch himself long enough to unzip his pants, so he carefully unzips Trench instead and pushes his underwear aside.

He hasn't done this since college, but it's not exactly something you forget how to do. Like riding a bicycle. He wraps a hand around Trench, and the Director makes a noise that's difficult to describe but definitely extremely arousing. Darling would like to draw this out, but he's too excited himself to manage that. He wraps his lips around Trench's cock, puts his spare hand on Trench's thigh, the wool fabric surprisingly soft under his hand. He wonders if he's ever going to be able to look at this desk chair the same way.

He's barely gotten started when he feels a hand wrap around his own cock and almost bites down in surprise. He looks up, and Trench is watching him - and of course, he can do that without his _actual_ hands. Darling is amazed that he's never quizzed anyone about the sexual applications of telekinesis before now. He had no idea his control was so fine. Has Trench used the disk's power like this before? His grip is providing just the right amount of pressure, assured but not overpowering. Is this how he does it to himself? Does the Board know about this? Approve of it? There could be an entire paper here, and he has a thousand questions. He almost, _almost_ stops what he's doing to ask some of them, but Trench puts a gentle but firm hand (one of the real, flesh and blood ones) on his shoulder.

Darling shuts his eyes and tries to just focus on what he's doing, find his rhythm again, which isn't easy when Trench seems to have about six psychic hands and they're touching him everywhere. How has he never considered the advantages of being able to jerk someone off while you also cup their balls and stroke their perineum and still have enough hands free to keep one on an Altered Item?

He looks up. Trench is holding the wand, which is, alarmingly, crackling with sparks. The horny part of his brain wants to ask Trench to touch him with it, but he's not _quite_ that stupid even in this state.

Trench puts his free hand in Darling's hair, pushes him down harder, and he can feel the connection between them, feel how close Trench is to coming, how hard the Item is pushing him on. A second later, Trench fills up his mouth.

Darling is still licking and swallowing when Trench somehow touches him _inside_ , and he comes without even unzipping his pants. He hears the item give a weird, high-pitched buzzing whistle just before he passes out.

***

Darling wakes up slowly. He'd think he'd been dreaming, but a dream would be unlikely to end with him lying on Trench's scratchy office carpet feeling like his brain has fallen out. Which means all of that was real, and at some point Trench put him into the recovery position. For a minute he just lies there blinking at Trench's shoes and inhaling the drifting cigarette smoke. Well, fair enough. He almost wants one himself.

Eventually, though, there's nothing for it but to lever himself upwards into a sitting position and face the aftermath.

"You're awake," Trench says. "Are you all right?" To look at him, you wouldn't know Darling had just blown him. He seems as clean and distant and put together as ever, as far as Darling can tell when everything in the room is a questionable blur without his glasses on.

Darling tries to work out if he _is_ all right. Sticky, disoriented, still having trouble believing what just happened but - yes. 

"I'm fine. How's the Item?" It must be done with them, for now at least. He's never been less aroused in his life, like all of the erotic energy got sucked right out of the room. Just as well.

"It seems like it's dormant for now."

Maybe it's on a schedule. Or it just has a refractory period. They'd need to do further testing. Which would be a terrible, terrible idea. Obviously.

"Uh. Good, that's ... good." He really needs to find his glasses. Clean his teeth. Change his pants. And somehow get that done without anyone seeing the state he's in. He looks at the wand. "I'm not sure we should put _that_ in the Panopticon."

Trench makes a face. "Absolutely not. You've got somewhere in Research you can keep it?"

"Yeah, of course. Yeah." Apparently they are just not going to talk about this. Maybe that's for the best. "I'll keep it somewhere away from people. Hopefully it's happy that way, if it spent years in a lost and found." He turns and looks at the door, wondering if it's safe to leave the room. "I should go get cleaned up." It must be long after hours now, hopefully nobody is out there. He keeps a change of clothes in his office, although he never thought he'd need it for quite this reason.

"Wait," Trench says as he stands up to go. "I need to apologise."

"No, that was -" For once, he shuts himself up, before he says 'the best orgasm of my life' - "one of the most interesting paranatural experiences I've ever had. We learned a lot." Not just about the Item. None of this is going in a report, but Trench doesn't look any happier. "Are _you_ OK?"

"I didn't mean to take advantage of you."

"I think the item took advantage of us both." He sits down on the edge of the desk. "Look, do you have any whiskey in here?"

He knows that Trench does. He knows that Trench drinks at work - probably everyone knows that - but it seems polite to give him a little plausible dependability. The kind thing to do in the circumstances.

There's only one tumbler and it seems absurd to quibble about swapping saliva at this point, so for a while they just pass the bottle back and forth in silence, until it's all gone. They don't talk about anything at all.


End file.
